A Queen’s Submission

The first light of dawn filtered through the heavy curtains, casting golden streaks across the silk sheets.

Seraphine stirred, her body aching in ways that left no doubt about who had won last night's battle.

Kaelith's arm was draped over her waist, his hold possessive even in sleep.

For a long moment, she simply lay there, feeling the slow, steady rise and fall of his breath.

She could fight. Could challenge him again.

But this… this was not the time.

Kaelith had made his claim. Had proven that, no matter how far she pushed, he would always push back harder.

And so, Seraphine exhaled softly and did something she had never done before.

She stayed.

She did not slip from the bed to regain control. Did not retreat to plot her next move.

Instead, she turned slowly in his arms, resting her head against his bare chest.

Kaelith stirred at the movement, his grip tightening around her. His voice, still thick with sleep, rumbled against her skin.

"Giving in, are we?"

Seraphine smirked against his chest. "I know when to accept defeat."

A low chuckle. "Defeat?" He lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes—those eyes, still heavy with the remnants of last night's fire. "No, my queen. This is acceptance."

Seraphine held his gaze, letting him believe he had won.

Because sometimes, the best way to truly win…

Was to let the other think they had.

To be continued…

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